Muriel POV
I'd flown away laughing, despite my reluctance to leave her so soon. The look on her face was priceless.
When she returned my kiss my heart felt like it would beat itself right out of my chest. The passion that had sparked between us in that moment was almost too strong to resist, but I knew I had to bide my time. If we took things too fast, too soon she would likely run from me. So I pulled away, missing the taste of her lips immediately.
Now I was walking through the town market, thankful for my ability to retain my normal visage, I'd already picked up her clothes. More sexy leather and some shirts I planned to alter with magic so they'd show off her beautiful figure in all the right ways. Perusing the fruit stalls, I was estimating how much I could reasonably fit on my broomstick, when I felt it. Her fear and anger. Slowly, with a deceptive calm, I turned and walked back to the edge of town. Once I was outside the range of sight for anyone I broke into a sprint, using all my supernatural speed to reach my stashed broomstick. Soaring into the air, I looked towards the mountains that were my home and prayed to whatever deity would listen to someone like me.
When I reached the cave entrance the smell of blood hit me like a fist to the gut. I could tell that while most of it belonged to witches, a fair amount was Gretel's. She'd put up a fight judging by the scuffs in the earth and the pattern of blood spatter.
Rage bubbled inside me like never before. Pulling a rag from my pocket I swiped up some witch blood, storming in to my home and throwing open the door to my workroom. It took me a record breaking seven minutes, twenty-six seconds to brew the tracking spell. Once applied to the scrying crystal and a corresponding map, I'd find them anywhere. Their magic wouldn't save them now. Perhaps I'd been too lenient these past few decades. If the fools really thought they could challenge me, I'd teach them otherwise. I'd bathe in their blood and claim my mate in the light of their pyres when I burned them alive.
Gretel POV
When I woke it was with a pounding head and sharp pain in my chest. I probed the area and quickly determined that I did indeed have a few broken ribs. Gritting my teeth, I felt around until I was ready. Then I set them with the experience of years as a witch hunter. It was excruciating. I held back my scream but couldn't help the hiss that slipped out.
A rustle to my left caught my attention and for the first time I took in my surroundings. It was nothing special. Your average witch lair. An altar, bone carvings, scent of blood in the air, old spell books. I found myself lying in a wooden enclosure that looked hastily constructed. It would take me a matter of minutes to escape. But that wasn't the problem, as far as I was concerned the bars were merely symbolic. The real issue was I didn't know what waited beyond this room, I was unarmed and injured. As far as I knew there could have only been the dozen witches that brought me here but there could also be the rest of the original witch army. Or at least the remnants of it after Hansel's attack. Patience then.
It was a full hour before anyone entered. Three witches, none of whom I recognised from the attack, stalked into the room, ignoring me for now. One of them, a witch with elongated ram's horns jutting from her forehead and the usual witch complexion, pulled a large book from a pile near the altar. Turning back to the others they started gathering things; feathers, talons, preserved animal organs, all the kind of things they'd need for a major spell. Ah fuck.
Whatever this was it couldn't be good. They couldn't complete the previous ritual without the blood moon or a grand witch, I should really ask Muriel what that was about in the first place, but my blood was still powerful and therefore whatever spell they were casting was sure to be a widespread problem.
Apparently they didn't want to hang around before carrying out whatever they had planned, which was probably smart because I was pretty sure it wouldn't just be Hansel searching for me. She's going to be so pissed.
They pulled me out and bound my hands, apparently it's necessary to punch me in the gut before all dark witch rituals. Gasping for breath, I didn't struggle as they dragged me down a roughly hewn tunnel, out into what appeared to be another sacrificial gathering site. Frankly it didn't look all that different from the last, these witches could really use some imagination.
Once again I found myself chained to an altar with dark witches jeering and making disturbing noises in my direction. Honestly I was getting rather irritated with the increasing frequency of these events.
Muriel POV
Once I'd tracked down the fools who'd taken my mate, I began devising my strategy. I was extremely powerful and theoretically my abilities were greater than those of these witches combined. But as any warrior knows, even the greatest swordsman can be defeated by a novice soldier if the warrior is overconfident. If I attacked without strategy I could be caught unaware, overrun, or simply fall victim to pure bad luck. It would be really degrading to end up dying due to tripping on my own robe. Numbers could still win here.
I made my plans and set about utilising them. Pulling my favourite atheme from my cloak, I cut both my palms and buried my hands in the soft earth. Reaching out to the trees, I bent the spirits of the forest to my will. The trees surrounding the gathering began to move. It built slowly, the other witches not noticing at first. When they did, dread settled into their hearts as they realised; the branches and leaves were moving. But where was the wind?
Snuffing out all fires but the main bonfire, I made my entrance. My face remained human; even now I didn't want to scare Gretel. Not that she'd ever be intimidated by something like that, I thought with an internal grin.
Their pathetic wards were easy to shatter, though they did stir the white hot rage inside me, a rage I now allowed free reign to seep into the trees. Their subtle movement rapidly turning into a full on assault, tree roots erupting from the ground to crush, strangle or simply impale. My eyes locked with Gretel's and I could see myriad cuts and bruises that caused me to rend a witch I'd once considered an ally in two. Slinging curses as fast as I wielded my curved blades, I rejoiced in the feel of slicing flesh from bone and burning my sister witches from the inside out. I would make them scream, I would eradicate each and every one of them and mark this land as a warning to all who came after.
Gretel POV
I noticed it before they did. The movement of the trees without the aid of wind. As a hunter you learned to pay attention to these things, else you didn't live long. When the torches were extinguished and she stepped into the clearing I couldn't take my eyes off her. Striding into the throng, pulling out two viciously curved blades she looked like an avenging angel. I couldn't even pull my attention from her when the trees themselves came to life and attacked the assembled dark witches. As she cut her way through, she kept her eyes on mine and I couldn't help the rush of arousal I felt.
Pulling my attention away from the most dangerous person here, I went to work on the manacles. They'd used the same ones as last time. I snorted in derision; they hadn't held me for long last time. How they thought they'd be able to hold me this time after I'd already figured out the mechanism was beyond me. It took me less than ten seconds to get them off and had to duck the wild swing of a particularly hairy witch sporting a pair of pig ears. Dodging her left hook, I danced behind her and wrapped the chain around her thick neck, pulling with everything I had. Looking up I narrowly missed having my throat cut as another witch swiped at me with a rusty looking knife. I found it rather insulting that while trying to kill me she didn't even have the decency to use a properly maintained blade.
That encounter didn't last long as a tree root decapitated her, showering me with her blood. I really need a bath. I took her knife with some distain and settled in to a defensive stance as a group of four witches charged me. More of them were turning towards me, some even leaving the fight with Muriel to charge me. It seemed they knew they would lose, and were intent on getting in their revenge before they were destroyed. Oh shit.
Muriel appeared to sense their desire and began hacking her way towards me, carving a bloody path with a trail of corpses.
Witches weren't to be taken lightly unless they were dead or about to be and I was pushed to my limit holding them off. I backed into an oak tree, using it's now mobile roots as reinforcements to help hold them off. But no matter how many I killed more seemed to appear, and as was inevitable according to Murphy's Law, one of them managed to slam their fist into my newly set ribs. The burning agony couldn't distract me from the feel of one of the bone fragments slicing through my lung. I dropped to the ground choking on my own blood and desperately trying to breathe.
Suddenly Muriel was standing over me, protecting my prone form from our attackers. By this point I was fading in and out of consciousness; blood loss combined with the lack of oxygen was taking its toll. I didn't see how it ended exactly. I vaguely remember the sound of someone screaming their rage, a bright light and then Muriel leaning over me. "Just hold on love. Please don't sleep, you have to stay awake!" her desperation was clear but I was drifting into the darkness. It was warm and peaceful, and I was so tired.
Abruptly my drifting mind was wrenched back to my body and my eyes snapped open. The pain was even worse than before and Muriel looked down into my eyes, her own holding a fierce light. "You're mine, do you hear? I won't let you go after all this time waiting for you. You're mine." Under normal circumstances I probably would have decked her for such a statement but these weren't normal circumstances and the terror I could feel rolling off her in waves made me want to comfort her. She moved her hands on my ribcage and I howled in pain, absently surprised at my newly regained ability to draw breath. As the pain faded darkness edged my vision once more, her hands stroked my face. "Shh, now. You'll be okay, just stay awake a bit longer". I found I couldn't comply with the last part and gratefully gave in to unconsciousness.